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Serena is sitting on the porch, the African sun warm on her neck. The air is swaying to its own silent rhythm. Bruised jacaranda flowers scattered on the grass are evidence of a wild night of thunderstorms. She doesn’t notice. Once again, she’s been wide-eyed all night, with the creatures of the dark and electrified air flirting with the idea of ending it all.

With driving out to schools, educating, training, piloting projects, writing reports, taking care of her son David managing the household, Serena became the expert juggler. At night – after ensuring that tummies were full, the lullabies were sung and the